


Closest to the Real Deal

by Eclissy



Category: DragonFable, DragonFable (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 04:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17912096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eclissy/pseuds/Eclissy
Summary: Falconreach's defences are severely weakened following grueling weeks in fires far from home. Their Hero, who had fallen from the back of their Dragon during a previous fight, is in no way fit to fight back the twisted creature a necromancer with a vendetta unleashes on their home.But they appear on the battlefield anyways, and a lot meaner than usual.





	1. "They're Pretty Words that Didn't Mean a Thing"

“It’s strangely quiet.” Noxus mused.

 

“Uh, what?” Drakath was wincing, unable to hear anything in the cacophonic melding of skeleton shrieks and hissing monsters slinking in the dark. Sepulchure’s fortress became busier as more elemental orbs had been claimed. Through it all, the shrieking of a baby reigned supreme.

 

“I said, it’s too quiet!” Noxus shouted, only somewhat audible. The entire conversation would consist of yelling, and both of them were quite adept at that. “Ah, no matter. I assume you know why I called you here, Drakath.”

 

“ _Prince Drakath,”_ The title-less bandit corrected him, staggering back when Noxus flashed him a silent glare. The nightmarish glow in his eyes illuminating the otherwise pitch black. room. “W-well, you assume wrong! Lord Sepulchure entrusted me with a…multitude of gravely important tasks. There isn’t time for me to waste on a _failure’s_ side projects.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure,” Noxus nodded, circling around the strange markings he had drawn on to the floor. If. Drakath squinted, he could see the bitter limp the collapse of the Necropolis left him with. “And that’s why the Prince of Fools is kept in the fortress. Because he’s done so well claiming the Orbs.”

“Exactly! I’m too important to be wasted on such mundane…did you just call me a fool?” The bandit would have crossed the room to kick him down to his knees, but why waste time on a washout?

 

Drakath wasn’t scared of the necromancer turning him into an undead rat nest. Who said he was scared?

 

“What could you be up to,” He asked instead, curious. “Last I heard, Sepulchure wasn’t interested in your schemes anymore. And we’re weeks away from the next holiday you need to ruin.”

 

“Yes yes, that would be the back-up plan,” Ignorant to the jab at his unspoken demotion, Noxus waved his hand and the markings on the ground glowed a poisonous green. “The opportunity presented to me now is the best chance I have at grinding the Hero’s bones to dust.”

 

Whether the necromancer was aware of Sepulchure’s plans needing the Hero alive or not didn’t matter. The venom tinging Noxus’ breath spoke of revenge; blind and mindless.

 

Listening to the odd ‘quiet’ of the fortress again, Drakath crossed his arms. The wet weight in his pocket was throwing him off balance.

 

“Would that opportunity have something to do with the smoke that’s still in the sky?”

 

“This was the first Orb taken by the Shadowscythe. A victory that taught me much,” Noxus willed the glow to rise from the runes, forming into a bulging shape floating in the darkness. “I thought about conjuring their greatest fears. But what are their greatest fears? Not corpses, or anything they can be molded into.”

 

The shape morphed, flitting through forms of Noxus’ past creations. Drakath made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, trying to find a space in the necromancer’s rambling to talk over him.

 

“Not werewolves or vampires either. A hybrid of the two?” Noxus wondered aloud, swirling the image until a winged wolfman formed. “No, too plain to fear.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Drakath said “It would make sense for rabid vermin to breed.”

 

“Then something abstract? How old is the hero? Late teens? Early twenties,” The necromancer dwelled on a thought. “Aha!” Noxus shot a bolt of dark magic into the floating slime. “The fear of unexpected pregnancy!”

 

The slime started to bloat into a grotesque lumpy figure.

 

“That’s too much.”

 

“That’s way too much.” Noxus agreed, dashing the image away.

 

“Not even their greatest failure staring them in the face could break their spirit,” He continued, sculpting the shape into a familiar face. “But he did come the closest.”

 

Priding himself in the noble poise and control he projected, Drakath contented himself with imagining his blade ripping through the horned visage. Noxus was too absorbed in his own voice that he didn’t notice the jagged scowl on the bandit’s face.

 

“Perhaps it isn’t about fear or tainting relations. This close success must not be about the Hero’s mindset but about their enemies.’ A thirst for vengeance so deep, it kills reason before it takes lives,” A dark laugh bubbled behind Noxus’ lips. “Given the right resources, I’ll have the Hero groveling in just under three days.”

 

“Three days? No!” Drakath’s exclaimed, upset enough to make Noxus’ illusion shudder. “Both of the hero’s legs were broken during the Orb’s recovery. You wouldn’t be satisfied with crushing them when there’s no chance of them showing up. Believe me when I say that nothing would satisfy me more than personally crushing their skull under my boot. You are wasting your time and mine.”

 

“That reckless Hero will answer the call of their friends. Running in on their hands if they must. Even if they don’t--” Noxus snapped his fingers, and the shape flattened on the floor, becoming a thin black membrane and pulsing with red veins. “—Crushing their home will be close enough to the real target.”

 

Staring at the vessel writhing at Noxus’ feet, Drakath clenched and unclenched his fists.

 

“Which brings me to why I requested your presence.” Noxus’s grin glinted from under his tattered hood.

* * *

Leaning on the railing of the balcony, Princess Victoria gazed to the East of Swordhaven where the smoke was still visible. Being stuck in the castle, she only heard stories of the burn scars left by the fiery invasions.

 

Victoria was filled with nothing but guilt, surrounded by flowers and pretty white stone. The next chance she’d get, Victoria would rush as fast as she could to Falconreach to help with providing aid, and at the very least support her friends.

 

Her chance came eerily on cue, in the form of a battered carriage being dragged into the castle’s courtyard on its last two wheels. Flanked by his guards, the King was there speaking to the carriage’s handlers.

 

All of them were in on their knees, giving apologies the King refused to accept. Judging from how Victoria could hear him asking the poor citizens to stand from several floors up, it concerned something particularly special.

 

“Victoria, good morning,” The King greeted his daughter when he returned to the throne room, smiling in relief. “I was about to join you and Brittany. We haven’t had much time to talk these busy days.”

 

“Busy is one way to describe them,” Victoria smiled back, becoming startled at the rising wail from outside. “Oh, did something get stolen again?”

 

The King’s posture stiffened but he quickly made himself relax.

 

“I must be honest, I’m relieved that it was stolen.” He admitted, walking to his daughter’s side as they both headed for the upper floors. Their guards followed closely behind and though they were much appreciated, it made it harder to chat.

 

“Was it another ugly painting?” Victoria asked.

 

“Hmm, more of a relic that should be left to gather dust,” King Alteon said, more aware of the bright banners that now coloured the castle. “We’ve never needed that rusty thing.”

 

“Be more vague.” Princess Victoria joked, laughing easily at her father’s bewildered expression turning into a half grin that didn’t reflect in his eyes. “Father? I’m sorry, did I—”

 

“No, no! You’re right, I was being vague,” The King cut her off quicky. “Ah, it’s just that, I’ve criticized the fine Hero in Falconreach for possessing a Doom Weapon, but I haven't lost friends to them. ”

 

Brow furrowing deeply, Victoria tried to understand but her thoughts became jumped as the Castle began to violently shake. Through a window, Victoria could see one of the towers teeter dangerous, losing half of its roof to the quaking. Her father gripped her arm tightly, urging her to move.

 

Swordhaven rumbled and cracked, throwing the denizens of the castle into disarray. The guards were quick to usher the royal family outside despite the King’s shouts to take Victoria and let him rush to the Crown Princess’ side.

 

Scanning the area, Victoria searched for any signs of attack but the sky was clear the only rising smoke came from chimneys in the city. Was it only an earthquake?

 

“Stop!” The guard leading at the front of their protective formation raised their hand and their mad rush came close to piling over their King.

 

Beyond them, the courtyard had collapsed into itself, revealing a deep pit that could easily swallow several homes. 

 

“What is this?” The King demanded, finding his footing once the shaking came to a complete stop.

 

Several guards began speaking at once and before he could become frustrated with another problem on his doorstep, the King turned to Victoria.

 

“I’m sorry, please let the guards take you and your sisters to the westmost estate.”

 

Her father didn’t need to say more and Victoria didn’t want him to. Nodding sharply, she and a pair of knights rushed to find the other two princesses. The moment Victoria would get privacy, she would rush to find the Hero as fast as her feet would carry her.

 


	2. “It makes me happy just to hear you talk.”

The Hero never made their bed. 

Once their white armor was fastened into place, they pulled their helmet on and lingered by the bed. The sheets stank of ointments that made their stomach queasy but the mattress had long since chilled.

Despite the fact, they pulled the blankets taut and fluffed the pillows, muttering about how they weren’t some chambermaid.

Sitting on the open windowsill above the bed, a baby dragon growled. The only thing stopping them from grinding their teeth, a gross nervous habit, was the red dragon amulet carefully pinched between their canines.  

They would have growled right back, and were about to if there weren’t more pressing matters to attend to.

Grunting impatiently, they held their hand out, beckoning to the baby dragon.

Surprisingly, taking the amulet didn’t come close to pulling teeth. The baby dragon dipped his head and dropped the gem into their palm, turning his tail towards them, and flying off.

Weighing less than a paperweight, the amulet was making their wrist ache and it was maddening how the normally crass, scaly brat had given up so easily.

They could just walk out and never come back. 

But in a few days, the room would be occupied again and impossible to leave alone.

If all went well, of course.

Slinging on the red cape, they took the dormant Doom Weapon, still getting used to its new thin sheathe, and slung it to their belt. 

They weren’t prepared in the slightest, but for now, willpower would have to suffice. 

“Ty?” The innkeeper caught them sneaking out with the stolen key clearly stuck in the door’s lock. “What are you doing out of bed?” She approached, the sweet-smelling linens in her hamper bouncing as she approached. At first, the blond woman stared straight at the adventurer’s chest before quizzically lifting her chin to speak to them. “ _How_ are you out of bed?”

Hesitating for the briefest of moments, they decided the that the smartest idea was to grab the hamper and toss it down the hall. It hit a flower vase and the blue porcelain smashed on the ground, drenching the laundry in lukewarm green water.

Hands still held out in front of her, the innkeeper opened her mouth to try to say something, and found nothing that fit.

Trying to make a cover for their strange behavior, they made the innkeeper watch them gesture indignantly at the mess. Really? You leave puddles and shattered glass where anyone could slip and get stabbed? This was more of a sneevil dump than a cheap inn.

Waving the innkeeper off, the armored clutz began to walk and found that their shin guards kept biting into their skin. They were already wheezing in their tight chest plating, this was going to be an ordeal. 

“A-are you going to be alright?” The innkeeper tried to call out to them, able to hear their harsh wheezing from up the stairs. That just made them hobble faster.

Going outside didn’t help one bit.

Even when the sky finally became speckled in blue, Falconreach was a cluster of huts compared to the great Capital of the Kingdom. They were surprised the town wasn’t constantly on fire.

Resentfully, they marched towards the Eastern gate, ignoring the Guardian that time and time again, forced the Hero to put themselves in danger.

Just being near the tower’s shadow made their temper flare, and nearby was a perfect stress ball. 

At the fountain by the wall, Ash struggled to stand straight, coughing hoarsely into his palms. His cough joined the multitude of other strangled breaths, fighting off the acrid smoke they had become accustomed to breathing these past weeks. 

A kind hand patted his back for him. They patted his back so kindly that Ash nearly fell on his nose from the force of it.

“Ah!” Ash had to hop to stay on his feet. Turning around, he found his friend, the Hero. “Aw, thanks Ty. But I might need another one. I haven’t coughed that rib up yet.” He joked, beginning to stutter when the Hero cracked their knuckles. “No, actually I guess I’m fine! Haha…” He trailed off, happy to be able to talk to his friend now that they were all better.

Ash’s eyes snapped wide and he gripped them by the shoulders. His friend stared at his arms like they were drenched in sewage.

“What are you doing here? How are you standing?” He gaped at them, afraid that the Hero was going to fall apart the moment he let go. “The doctor said your legs were obliterated!  _Obliterated!_ ” He squatted, knocking on his friend’s knees caps. “That’s amazing, they’re still here!”

Unable to help themselves, they lifted their knee and bonked Ash on the nose.

“Eugh!” Ash fell on his butt, rubbing the big red spot in the middle of his face, before looking up to ask his friend what he did wrong.

At this angle, he realised there was something off. 

They just stood there in full armor, red cape draped over one arm and the disguised weapon Excelsior held in the other.

Staring at them, Ash struggled to figure out what was exactly wrong with this picture, aside from them standing when their femurs were supposed to be in a thousand pieces.

“That’s a helmet,” The boy pointed out, halting the Hero’s breath. “You never wear helmets.”

Hand flying to their face, they patted the sides of their white helmet, vaguely motioning to convey a message Ash couldn’t understand.

“Oh I know what’s going on.” 

The Hero staggered back, hands crossed over their head in fright. They rapidly mapped several routes in their head, all vying to be the fastest way out of Falconreach.

“The eyebrows, right?” Ash beamed, crossing his legs. “They haven’t grown back yet.”

Going still, they gaped at Ash, not that he could see it. Slowly, the hero began to nod, and Ash smiled, nodding too. They bobbed their chins at each other, faster and faster the more time they took to try to explain why they couldn’t use their voice right now.

“Ty, I’m getting dizzy,” Ash laughed, expecting them to sit with him. “Did you use magic to fix your legs? I mean, that’s fine. The doctor just said your knees are going to sound like firecrackers whenever you bend them but, you don’t have to go out today. It’s still really early.”

He pointed to their sword.

“See? Even Excelsior’s taking a break,” Ash squinted at the supposed Doom Weapon. “They look kind of different actually.”

Breathing heavily at Ash’s comment, the rattling of their armor scared a family away from the fountain.

“I mean, nothing weird about that,” Ash said, scratching the back of his head. “Honestly, are you doing okay? You know, if you don’t want to talk to me right now, I understand." 

Dwelling on the boy’s worried frown, they thought about the other close calls Ash’s peaceful temperament had saved the Hero from.

"It’s been tough, huh?” The boy's concern made them sigh.

Having to share what was theirs made their skin want to crawl into boiling lead but if it kept the bandages from piling in the washtub…

“Oh!” Ash scrambled to his knees when his friend knelt, brandishing Excelsior.

The silver Doom weapon was longer than before, resembling a great sword instead of the short one-handed blade Ash had watched Ty practice with since day one.

“I’d ask if I could swing them around but, I remember the last time,” Ash laughed sheepishly. “Awfully rusty though. Did you accidentally wash them in salt water?”

Tilting their head, they neither affirmed or denied the claim.  

Just that movement made the edge of the helmet clip their chin.

“Ow!” They growled in their much deeper voice.

“That’s one big frog in your throat there, Ty.” Ash started to get to his feet. “Let’s get something to drink. Aria makes a mean hot water and honey.”

“They don’t need that. They’re going to be fine.”

An arm wrapped around the Hero’s neck, hugging them cheek to cheek with Robina the Hood.

“Not only are their legs completely healed, but I noticed they grew a foot and a half,” Robina smiled, ignoring the Hero shaking like a chihuahua choking on too many painkillers. “You have to introduce me to your doctor. I might just have to send him to prison.”

Robina turned to face her friend.

“You’re not going to say hello in that lovely airy voice of yours?”

At this point, their armor was rattling and in panicked desperation, the Hero made a squeal akin to a flattened squeaky toy.

“Uh…” Ash glanced between the two, feeling deep unease at Robina's unflinching, stale smile.

“Sure,” Robina stood, dragging her prisoner up with her. She patted the hero’s chest plating. It made a hollow sound like an empty wine barrel. “We’re going ahead, Ash. Me and these broad shoulders have a few jobs to discuss.”

The knight-in-training couldn’t see the plea in his friend’s hidden face but the rapid shaking of their head pushed him to action.

“Or, we can all sit down and friendly play charades with each other!” He grabbed his friend’s free arm.

"Adventurers have time for games after the business gets done." Robina said.

"Business sure sounds like you're going to beat them up in an alley."

“Ash, you know this isn’t Ty.” Robina dropped the jest.

“I know, I just feel so bad for him.” Ash admitted.

A sharp crack rang through the air, sounding like distant thunder.

Excelsior’ shook at the sound, and at the growing shadow creeping into the battered town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's pretty obvious but the situation is just fun.


End file.
